Various Artists - IAMAPHOTOGRAPHER
(Plain)
Various Artists - You Can Never Go Fast Enough
(Plain)
I think the good folks at Plain may be on to something here! Tired of the same lame-o, exploitation tribute albums and ridiculous soundtrack albums that have absolutely nothing whatsoever to do with the film in question (except to promote the latest lousy product from some unknown loser), these double album sets combine the best of both worlds into fantastic imaginary soundtracks of Michaelangelo Antonioni's Blow Up and Monte Hellman's Two-Lane Blacktop respectively. Blow Up was one of the most oft-discussed, cult films of the 60s, so it's only fitting that Plain gathered some of the most oft-discussed, cult artists of the 21st century to interpret his film through music. New Zealand sound sculptist Dean Roberts kicks things off with the titular in-joke, "A Yard of Birds," a loopy, guitarrorist noisefest. Matmos gives us a pastiche of found sounds and electronic tape loops held together by a funky, rolling bass line, which effectively captures 60's swinging London film soundtracks recently parodied by Quincy Jones on his Austin Powers series. All of this in spite of its pretentious title, "Despite Its Aesthetic Advances In Its Policing of the Sexuality of Public Space Antonioni's Film Perpetuates Misogyny and Homophobia," which sounds more like the title of a Doctoral thesis. Mushroom's laidback, jazzy "Antonioni's Groove" is one of the most cinematic (i.e., less experimental) tracks on the album and will easily please fans of soundtrack music in general and this wonderful San Francisco band in particular.
The jazzy vibes continue with Jon Birdsong's Air Force and their homage to Jane Birkin's crotch and the infamously scandalous "Full Frontal Nudity" scene. Unfortunately, William Parker's violin scrapings ("Sonic Animation") takes up half of side two and is strictly for completists. And speaking of the avant garde, they don't get more experimental than the ultra-prolific Loren MazzaCane Connors, who's had more albums than birthdays (he turned 50 several years ago!) One of the most effective uses of silence in the history of cinema is the extended scene in the park where the photographer seems to stumble upon two lovers making out in the bushes. Connors' tribute to this scene, "The Wind in the Trees/The Couple" is a short, minimalist piece of ambience that's as haunting as the scene itself.
The jaw-dropping weirdness continues on "30.0/31.0" from Italian band, Starfuckers, another severely edited pastiche of syncopated percussion, guitar, voiceover, and what can only be described as the sound of a guitar falling down the stairs. The soundtrack's most "difficult" side comes to a romantic conclusion with the gentle, pastoral nostalgia of "1966" from Richard Youngs. Over an acoustic guitar backing, Youngs adds woodwind and musicbox chimes to effectively capture a stroll through the park and quite frankly, fits the couple in the park scene better than Connors' piece.
The all-male, Arizona trio known as the Sun City Girls begins the second record with a typically unobtrusive instrumental piece of fluff called "Rolled Up Collar," which is the type of transitional music you usually hear during street scenes or accompanying actors driving or walking from one scene to another. The free jazz sax skronk of Arthur Doyle's "You End Me on the African Express" is the epitome of room-clearing noise. In fact, when my daughter walked through the room as this piece was playing, she screamed "Those people need to learn how to tune their instruments." I couldn't have said it better myself. Few people will be able to sit through this in its entirety.
Dawson Prater's lengthy exercise in pure tone audiometry (i.e., it sounds like a hearing test) occupies of two-thirds of side four and, as with most of this collection, is either fascinating or a tremendous load of bollocks, depending on your temperament, patience and susceptibility to avant garde, experimental music. Your interest in this will, therefore, ultimately depend upon your acquired taste for the artists involved, as all of these tracks are exclusive to this set. Fans of the OHM box set of electronic gurus will love it, but others may think it reminds them of the sound of industrial machinery or everyday appliances, such as the hum of a speaker, air condition or refrigerator.
Plain's second 2xLP imaginary soundtrack was created in tribute to Monte Hellman's cult road picture, Two-Lane Blacktop, whose original interest was centered around the casting of rock stars James Taylor and Dennis Wilson in the lead roles, but whose cult status today rests upon the shoulda-had-the-Oscar brilliance of Warren Oates. Unlike the previous set, this soundtrack, assembled by Filippo Salvadori (co-owner of Ampersand Records with "Photographer" contributor Dawson Prater, as well as the 4 Men With Beards imprint with Plain's honcho Pat Thomas), combines previously released material (Sandy Bull, Roscoe Holcomb, Leadbelly) with exclusive newbies from the likes of Charalambides, Roy Montgomery, Wilco, Calexico, Mark Eitzel, and Will Oldham. Sandy Bull's banjo-led, "Little Maggie," sounding like the theme from Beverly Hillbillies, gets this road trip off to a rousing start, but things come to a screeching halt about halfway through Will Oldham's lengthy rap on "Don't Cry, Driver" (Taylor's character). While it sounds like authentic dialogue from the film, after nine minutes I had completely lost the thread of what he was rambling on about, although I did enjoy the rolling, mellow backing accompaniment from Will and Alan Licht.
Sun City Girls guitarist Alan Bishop (whose band also contributed to "Photographer"), gives us "Sleep Gunner" under his alter-ego, Alvarius B. It's a soft, acoustic rumination that essentially cops its melody from Lennon's "Love." Calexico's "No Doze" is the complete antithesis, with half the band quietly lulling us to sleep with violin and acoustic guitar serenades on one hand and the hyperactive drummer annoyingly beating the shit out of his drumkit to keep us awake on the other. Imagine downing six cups of espresso and then lying down to try and fall asleep. It does live up to its title, however, and captures the emotional and physical strain of a cross-country driver fighting the urge to sleep.
Fifty-year old German guitarist, Steffen Basho-Junghans combines acoustic and pedal steel guitars on the rambling "Lazy Waters." It's the perfect embodiment of a circuitous road trip, and is as essential in capturing the mood of the film as The Byrds "Ballad of Easy Rider" was to that film. In fact, the opening Dylan-penned couplet, "The river flows/It flows to the sea/Wherever that river flows/That's where I want to be" is exactly the image conjured by this lovely instrumental.
Ex-American Music Clubber, Mark Eitzel teams up with horn-y pianist, Marc Capelle (trumpet) for "What The Girl Didn't Say," which is not so much a song as a collection of voiceovers, tape loops, sound effects, field recordings and annoying, percussive hip-hop beats. It's especially disappointing in light of the visual quality of most of Eitzel's songwriting, particularly with AMC, whose "Western Sky" (off California) would have been a better choice here.
Roscoe Holcomb's "Boat's Up The River" sounds like an extremely young Dylan and will appeal particularly to the fans who were ready to string him up at Newport when he plugged in his guitar, as well as those who applauded the "Judas"-yelling heckler at the Manchester gig back in '66. Suntanama give "Parallels" a stony, CSN&Y vibe, and end up with an instant, Southern-fried, folk-psych classic, while Howie Gelb and Giant Sand acknowledge the OTHER classic cult road movie via the sashaying, fuzz-driven, "Vanishing Point." Charalambides follow this with an even more obscure in-joke, "Flying Machine," which some may recognize as an illusion to Taylor's pre-stardom band of the mid-60s (and NOT the British band of the same name that had the hit with "Smile A Little Smile For Me) - although husband-and-wife team Tom and Christina Carter's typically esoteric guitar experimentalism is light years from either of those bubblegummy projects!
The current backlash against Thurston Moore and Sonic Youth for their recent weird-for-the-sake-of-being-ornery-bastards releases will continue unabated after the pundits get a load of "Loop Cat." However, after hearing their tracks on the Terrastock 5 box of 7-inchers on Time-Lag, I suggested they seemed to be venturing into a more cinematic approach to music and, lo and behold, here they are contributing to this imaginary soundtrack. While some may feel their suddenly treasonous musical about-face is tantamount to Dylan's previously mentioned "going electric" phase, I will stand behind the encouraging words I wrote about their new direction and encourage Moore and Co. to pursue it. However, if you are unwilling to accept such drastic career makeovers (as if The Beatles decided to try heavy metal or Led Zeppelin and Black Sabbath saw the light and turned into C&W square dance bands), then you probably won't be listening to this again any time soon.
And speaking of treason, I've abandoned hope of ever figuring out what the hell Chan Marshall and her ridiculous Cat Power project is all about, and her disastrous, somnambulistic reading of "(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction" certainly offers no new clues; however, New Zealand guitar god Roy Montgomery's epic, 12 1/2 minute "2LB" quickly washes the stale taste out of my ears with an all-out guitar assault that will clear the cobwebs out of everyone's groggy, funk-encrusted brain. Once again, jaw-dropping brilliance or room-clearing noise: you make the call.
So while You Can Never Go Fast Enough is the more accessible of the two releases, particularly to folk and rock fans (and Montgomery's track alone is worth the price of admission), "Photographer" is still suggested to avant jazz aficionados. Here's hoping Plain have commissioned a few more of these imaginary cult soundtracks. I'd love to hear what other cult artists can do with Last Year at Marienbad, La Jettee (an EP, of course), or John Boorman's Point Blank!
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